Reap The Whirlwind
Book 2 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries
By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026
Chapter 18
"It's not our fault," Laura said adamantly.
She, Gabe, and Caitlin had come over as soon as we called an emergency meeting. Killain couldn't come until Friday, but we still felt like we needed to touch base after the latest news.
"We don't even know what happened yet," Gabe said, agreeing with his girlfriend. "No details, at least."
"We know we were there that afternoon and, just a few hours later, her roommate found her dead," I pointed out.
"Poor Keisha," Aidan said softly.
"You saw her," Laura said. "Did she seem like someone who was stable to you?"
"She didn't seem suicidal," I shot back.
"And I guess you're some sort of expert just because you tried twice and failed?" she snapped, and I gasped.
"Hey," Gabe said sharply. "Not cool."
Laura was blinking rapidly. "Fuck."
I abruptly stood up, fighting back tears. In a flash, Aidan was on his feet with his arms around me. He glared over my head at Laura.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he growled.
Laura stood too. "I'm so sorry! That was totally uncalled for."
The tears were starting to leak out so I turned my face into Aidan's chest.
"Maybe we should just leave," Gabe said. "We're all shaken, tensions are high."
"I don't care how upset you are, you don't say shit like that," Aidan said, anger coloring his voice.
"Aidan..." Gabe started.
"No, Aidan's right," Laura said, sounding shaky. "I...I don't know what's going on with me lately. I think this is all starting to really get to me but that's no excuse. Will, I'm truly sorry."
I sniffed and pulled away from Aidan's protective embrace.
"I know. It's okay."
"No, it's not okay. I can't believe I said that. I feel awful." Tears were running down her face, too.
"Well, now we both feel awful," I said with a valiant attempt at a smile.
"We can't let this tear us apart," Gabe said gently. "We all need to take a deep breath, okay?"
Aidan reached for my hand.
I suddenly realized that Caitlin had been very quiet through the entire exchange and looked over to where she sat. Her eyes were locked onto my hand clasped in Aidan's, a strange look clouding her expression.
When she noticed me watching her, she gave me a tight smile and shifted her attention away.
We all sat back down, with Aidan a lot closer to me than he had been, but we didn't really have anything relevant to say. Aidan shared his theory that Keiyara and her mystery man may have been involved in Joey's death, but no one had much appetite for detective work after our emotional outburst.
Laura and Gabe soon made their excuses and left. Caitlin waited until they were gone before she, too, stood to leave. She'd been extremely quiet the entire time.
I walked her to the door, where she paused and glanced over my shoulder. Aidan had disappeared down the hall.
"So, I take it you and Aidan are together?" she asked, almost too casually.
"Oh yeah. In all the excitement, I guess we forgot to mention that. It, um, just sort of happened. Like, yesterday."
She nodded and gave me another tight smile. "Good for you," she said. "Look, can I borrow some money? For the baby? I need to get some tests done and they're not cheap."
"What kinds of tests?" I asked, feeling panic tighten in my chest. "Is the baby okay?"
She shrugged. "That's what the tests are for."
"How much do you need?"
"Like, a couple thousand."
"Two thousand?" I thought maybe I'd misunderstood her.
"About that."
"I...I don't have that much right now. At least not until I get paid for the show."
"When will that be?"
"I'll ask Nikki. When do you need to get the tests done?"
"As soon as possible."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"That won't be necessary."
"But, I mean, I can be there for you—"
"I'll be fine on my own. I always am." She turned on her heel and walked away.
I stood there for a minute, wondering what was going on with everybody in my life. I was beginning to feel like Aidan was my only source of stability. I closed the door and went to find him.
Aidan was extra attentive all night, even though I kept assuring him I was fine. I'd just been shocked in the moment, but I knew Laura well enough to know she didn't mean to hurt me.
"Her mouth just works faster than her brain sometimes," I explained later that night as we were laying in bed. "She's...sharp-tongued at the best of times, and she lashes out when she's stressed. I'm sure she's feeling the same guilt we are. She's just overcompensating."
Aidan raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not the psych major here?"
I snorted. "Yeah right."
"Maybe you should consider it. You know, if the whole world-famous artist thing doesn't pan out."
I snuggled into his side and he wrapped an arm protectively around me. "Nah, one shrink in the family is enough," I said, and we drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, he insisted on driving me to work again. When he picked me up, though, he headed for the river, but instead of turning toward our building, he went the opposite direction.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"To the marina. I thought we could look for Joey's dad."
"After what happened with Keiyara?"
"We still don't really know what happened there," he said. "We've jumped to a lot of conclusions, but we have very few facts. They haven't even officially released her name. What if it was just all one big coincidence and it wasn't even her who died?"
"That would be a pretty big coincidence."
"Yeah, but we don't know. That's my point."
"Was Keisha in class today?"
"No," he admitted. "But let me put it this way, do you want to stop looking for Joey's killer?"
"No! I just don't want anyone else to get hurt."
"Yeah, that's totally reasonable. So we just have to be a little more careful going forward."
"And how do we do that?"
"I don't know. I just figured we should get back on the proverbial horse and continue the investigation, reclaim some normalcy, and nose around."
"Nose around? Now you sound like Laura." I put on my best old-timey gangster voice, "We're gonna nose around, see. Don't get in our way or you'll be sleepin' with the fishes, see. We just happen to gots a pair of concrete shoes in your size, see."
"Oh, I see, alright. I see you're terrible at accents."
"Technically, you hear that," I pointed out in my own voice, then added, "See?"
He grinned, and, for a moment, things felt normal again.
We parked and walked around the marina for a few minutes looking for someone to talk to, but the place was deserted, perhaps not surprising since it was almost December. Most of the boats were covered for the winter. I pulled my coat tighter around me against the cold air blowing off the river. The temperatures had dropped dramatically the last few days.
Finally, we found an older man with a shock of white hair sticking out from under his baseball cap on board a small boat named the Mildred Belle. He was struggling to pull his canvas boat cover down far enough to snap it on and didn't notice us until we drew alongside him on the dock, startling him a little.
"Excuse me," I called. "Sorry to bother you, but we're looking for Mr. Taylor. We think he has a houseboat docked in this marina."
The man eyed us suspiciously. He was deeply tanned, rough and weathered by years in the elements, but his dark eyes were diamond sharp, taking in every detail. I began to feel vaguely guilty under his gaze.
"Nope, sorry," he said finally.
"Okay, sorry for interrupting," I said and we turned away.
"Hang on. Would you young bucks mind giving me a hand here, mebbe?"
I exchanged glances with Aidan, who gave me a subtle nod. "Sure," I agreed.
We stepped aboard his boat, and, for the next few minutes, helped him pull the cover taut enough to snap in place.
"Thanks, I appreciate the help," he said when we'd finished. "She's named after my wife."
His non sequitur threw me, and it took me a second to realize he meant the boat.
"She must have been flattered," I said. I wasn't sure how I'd feel having a boat named after me, but I supposed it would be an honor.
"She died two years ago, a year before I got this gal."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"She'd suffered for a long time. Cancer."
I didn't know what to say. Mercifully, Aidan stepped in. "My dad died of cancer, too," he said. The two men stood in a companionable silence for a few moments, sharing a common grief.
"Terrible disease," the older man said, finally. "You wouldn't happen to be looking for Jack Taylor, would you?"
"Jack Taylor?" I said cautiously. I didn't know if that was who I meant or not.
"Yep."
"Possibly?"
He looked at me with renewed suspicion. "Why are you looking for him?"
"He's my best friend's father."
"Well, now, that's mighty interesting seeing as how Jack's boy jus' died a few weeks back."
"Yes, I know. His name was Joey."
He nodded as if I'd spoken the secret password. "Jack was right broken up over that. I was here the day he got word. On the radio! Can you believe it? Helluva way to hear your boy is dead."
"Yes, sir, it is. I wanted to find him to tell him how sorry I was."
"Well, I'm sure he ain't here today, it being winter and all."
"Oh. I was under the impression that he lived on his houseboat."
"You can mebbe get away with that down south, but it's not much fun up in these parts. With his boy gone, I 'spect he'll head back to warmer climes soon enough."
"Well, if you happen to see him, could you tell him I was trying to get in touch with him? I'd really like to see him before he leaves. I can give you my number..." I searched my pockets for something to write with or on, even though I knew I didn't have anything.
"Hang on, I have something in my backpack in the car," Aidan said, and jogged off.
"How'd you know his son?"
"We grew up next door to each other."
"And you didn't know his daddy?"
"Mr. Taylor wasn't around. Joey only reconnected with him recently."
"I see." His eyes narrowed. "To hear Jack talk, that boy was his whole life."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing. We fell into an awkward silence while we waited for Aidan to get back. Thankfully, it wasn't too long before he returned with a pen and a sheet of paper.
I quickly wrote my name and number on it and gave it to the man whose name I hadn't even learned.
"Will Keegan, huh? I'll be sure to give this to Jack if I see him," he said. "Thanks again for the help."
It was a clear dismissal.
"Sure. And thank you for passing on my message," I replied, wondering if Mr. Taylor would ever see that hastily scribbled note.
I glanced back a few times as we walked to the car. Each time, he was still standing on the dock staring after us.
"Another dead end," I sighed as Aidan put the car into reverse and backed out of the parking spot.
"Maybe not. Let's wait and see."
"The longer we wait, the longer the killer has to get away with murder."
"The killer hasn't gotten away with anything yet. We still have a chance here, Will. Don't give up."
"I'm not giving up. I just hate this feeling that we're spinning our wheels while people keep getting hurt. Who's next?"
"There isn't going to be anyone next. We're going to get this guy."
"I hope you're right."
When we got home, Aidan hung back, letting me enter the apartment first. As soon as I stepped through the door, I stopped dead in my tracks.
Curtains had been drawn over the windows and a table was set in the center of the living room, complete with plates, silverware and a bottle of something chilling in a bucket of ice. Twinkling battery-powered candles covered every available surface.
"What's this?" I asked.
Aidan slid his hands around my waist from behind, pressing against my back. "Surprise?" he said softly in my ear.
I twisted to face him. "Did you set all this up before you left to get me?"
"I may have had some help," he said with a little smile. "I just wanted to surprise you, to show you how much I love you. There's been so much going on—"
I grabbed his face and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.
"Ah, you're home!" a voice called from behind me, and I leaped back.
"Relax," Aidan said with a chuckle. "That's just the help I mentioned."
I turned to find Nikki standing in the kitchen doorway beaming.
"So you were in on this?" I asked.
"As an accomplice only," she said. "Aidan did all the work. I just kept an eye on things until he got back, to make sure nothing burned."
"What did you make?" I asked him.
"You'll see. Nothing fancy. Lower your expectations."
"Don't listen to him," Nikki interjected. "He's just being modest. I had to restrain myself from tasting everything, it smells so good, and it's not even vegetarian. I'm going to send Sam to him for cooking lessons."
"Oh stop. From what we saw, Sam is a great cook already. Besides, we don't even know how it turned out. We haven't tasted it yet."
"Well, if it tastes anything like it smells, it's going to be delicious," Nikki said as she started toward us. "I'll leave you two love birds alone now. Enjoy your dinner. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
She sailed out the door, pulling it closed behind her.
I went in for another kiss, but that time all I got was a quick peck on the lips.
"Save it for dessert," he said with a grin. "We can't let the food get cold."
Dinner turned out even better than it smelled. He'd made a pork tenderloin with baked apples and a sweet apple cider reduction, roasted Brussels sprouts and fingerling potatoes with an apple crisp and vanilla bean ice cream for dessert. Despite his protestations, it was as good as any meal I'd ever had in a restaurant.
Afterward, we left the dirty dishes on the table as we retired to the bedroom to make love, grabbing a few candles on the way to set the mood. We took things slow and easy, just enjoying each other's bodies.
As we lay content in the afterglow of our lovemaking, I told Aidan about Caitlin asking me for money.
"Do you trust her?" he asked, raising himself up on one elbow.
"I want to. She's just...so hard to read."
"That's putting it mildly."
"To be fair, she barely knows us, she's pregnant, and the baby daddy is dead, likely murdered."
"All true. Do you think she'll actually let you be a part of the baby's life once it's born?"
I frowned. "I don't really know, and I think that's part of what's bothering me."
"Well, before you give her any money, maybe you should ask her to sign some sort of contract."
"A contract?"
"Yeah, guaranteeing you access to Joey's baby."
"I can do that?"
"I mean, if you're helping pay for all this stuff, I think you have the right. Maybe you should talk to a lawyer."
"Right, because I know so many of those."
"You know at least one. Ilana."
"From Thanksgiving?"
"Yeah. I think she handled the custody stuff with Kane. I know she handled all the legal stuff with Killian."
"Do you think I could call her?"
"I don't see why not. I'll text Adam and get her number for you. But that can wait until morning. Enough talk about babies...unless you want to try to make one right now."
"Again? Already?" I asked, already running my hands down his hard torso.
"Are you complaining?"
"Definitely not."
We were both completely drained after round two, but as we lay there, catching our breath, all I could think about was how I never wanted this to end.
I swung a leg over him and pulled him closer, feeling his fingertips gently trace patterns along my spine.
"I wish we could stay like this forever," I whispered.
He chuckled softly. "Naked in bed? Me too."
I swatted his chest playfully. "No, silly. It’s just...I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been."
His hand froze, and suddenly, he sat up, his eyes flashing with sudden intensity.
"Marry me," he said.
I blinked, staring up at him in shock. "What?"
"Let’s get married."
I sat up too, heart racing. "Are you... You're serious, aren't you?"
"Completely," he said without hesitation. "I was going to wait until Christmas, get a ring, make it all perfect, but I can’t wait. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Will. I want to grow old with you."
I couldn’t process the words. "Married?" I repeated, my head spinning.
"It doesn’t have to be anything big or fancy," he continued. "Just you and me, maybe with some friends, but mainly just us, declaring our love and making a promise to each other."
I couldn’t believe we were talking about this. Marriage? I was eighteen, barely out of the closet, just beginning to figure out who I was, in my first real relationship. We were in the middle of trying to figure out who killed my best friend — the one I’d had very unhealthy obsession with not that long ago. And then there was the baby.
But I pushed all of that aside and focused on one question: Did I want to spend the rest of my life with Aidan?
"Yes," I whispered, barely able to believe I was saying it.
Aidan’s eyes widened, unsure. "Wait... Do you mean..."
"Yes, I will marry you, Aidan Scott. Yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Yes, I—"
Before I could finish, he pulled me into a kiss, cutting off any more words. His tears were warm against my cheeks.
When we broke apart for air, I couldn’t help but tease him. "Does this mean I have to change my name to Will Scott?"
He laughed, tears still streaming down his face. "I don’t want you to change a thing, Will Keegan. I love you just the way you are."
When we got up the next morning, we found a blanket of snow had fallen during the night, covering the world with a soft layer of white purity. It was magical and beautiful and perfect. I took it as a sign that I'd made the right decision accepting Aidan's impromptu proposal.
I was staring out the window when he came up behind me and hugged me against his chest. I melted into his embrace with a contented sigh. I spent a few minutes just enjoying his arms, but then my mind wandered to thoughts of Caitlin and the baby.
"Did you say you could get Ilana's phone number?" I asked him.
"Sure. You want me to text Adam?"
"Please."
His arms slipped reluctantly from around my waist as he went in search of his phone. I followed him out to the living room after a minute.
"I just sent you the number," he said. "I'm going to go take a shower while you call her." He planted a kiss on me on his way.
I pulled up Aidan's text and tapped the number. While it connected and started ringing, I noticed my hand was shaking. I took a deep breath and tried to settle my nerves.
The phone rang once, twice, three times. I was just beginning to think that maybe her office wasn't open yet when a soft, cultured voice answered.
"Constantino Family Law, Jeanine speaking. How may I help you?"
I almost hung up, but I caught myself just in time. "Hello?" Jeanine asked into the line.
"Um, yes," I said quickly. "I'm calling for Ms. Constantino, please."
"May I ask who is calling?"
"My name is Will Keegan. I met Ms. Constantino at Thanksgiving, at Adam Connelly's house."
"I'll see if she's available. Please hold."
I sat listening to a soft jazz version of a popular R&B song while I waited nervously. Would she even remember me? I got my answer a moment later when her warm voice came on the line.
"Will, it's Ilana. How are you?"
"I'm good. Thanks for taking my call. I wasn't sure if you'd remember me."
She laughed. "How could I forget you after that speech you made? What can I do for you?"
"Well, uh, I think I'd rather talk to you in person. It's kind of complicated. Can I make an appointment?"
"Of course. Let me look at my schedule." The line was silent for a few seconds except for the sound of the keyboard clicking in the background. "Is this afternoon too soon? I have an opening at 4:30."
"That would be wonderful," I said with relief.
"Sounds good. I'll see you then."
I was still sitting in the living room holding the phone when Aidan came back out from his shower. One look at the man I was now engaged to and all my nervousness about the baby flew right out of my head...only to be replaced with nervousness about planning a wedding.
"So, uh, when exactly are you thinking about getting married?" I asked.
He gave me a funny look. "Did you talk to Ilana already?"
"Yeah, I made an appointment for this afternoon. But the wedding...?"
"I hadn't thought that far ahead. But I don't really want to wait. How about we just elope and tell everyone later?"
I felt my eyes bulge. "Like now?"
He shrugged and gave me a grin. "Not this very minute, but, like...soon."
"I don't know," I said slowly. "I... I think I'd kind of like to have a wedding."
"Like a big wedding?"
"No, it doesn't have to be big. More like what you said last night, just our closest friends and family."
"I think that sounds nice," he said. "But I'd still like to do it sooner than later, if you're okay with that."
"I guess so," I said. "I just don't know anything about planning a wedding."
"Me either. I'll do some research."
"Should we tell everybody?"
"Do you want to?"
I thought about it. "I think so. I mean, it would be hard to keep it secret."
"Then why don't we tell all our friends when they're here tonight? We can tell them all at once."
I nodded. That sounded like a solid plan. I gave him another kiss and went to take my turn in the shower.
Turns out, not telling people your good news is really hard. I felt like I would explode all morning at work. I was extremely distracted, to the point that Nikki asked me why I kept staring off into nowhere with a big, stupid grin on my face, but I just shook my head and stayed quiet.
When I came back from lunch, Nikki met me at the door.
"There's someone here to see you," she hissed loud enough to be heard all over the plaza.
I looked around but didn't see anyone in the gallery.
"He's in my office," she explained. "He looks a little shady to me."
My heart started racing. "Did he say who he was?"
"No. All he would say was that he needed to speak to you and you only."
Until that moment, it had never really occurred to me — perhaps naively — that I might be in danger too. Suddenly, my mind was flooded with terrifying possibilities. What if the killer saw me as a threat? What if he thought I knew more than I actually did? We hadn't exactly been subtle in our investigation. More often than not, we'd charged in with a sledgehammer when a flyswatter would have done the job.
"Stay by the door," I said to Nikki. "If you hear anything suspicious, get out and get help."
Her eyes grew wide, and she grabbed my wrist.
"Will, are you involved with the Mafia?"
The tension broke as I tried not to laugh in her face. I almost succeeded.
"What Mafia? This is the Eastern Shore. The most organized crime family we have are redneck chicken farmers."
"That's what they want you to believe," she said ominously.
"That's what who— No, never mind. To be knowledge, I'm not involved with any gangsters," I assured her.
I left Nikki standing anxiously at the front and made my way back toward her office, knocking lightly before pushing the door open. I didn’t want to startle whoever was waiting.
Inside, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline sat slumped in a chair, staring at the giant statue in the corner like he didn’t know what to make of it. His clothes were worn but clean. There was something familiar about him, though I couldn’t place it right away.
"Hello?" I said cautiously. "I'm Will Keegan."
He stood up with an awkward sort of energy and gave me a strained smile. "Hey there, Will. Sorry for showing up unannounced. Your mom said I could find you here."
I blinked. "Nikki’s not my—wait. My mom?"
"Yeah, yeah. I didn’t know how else to find you. Denny down at the marina said you grew up next to my boy—"
"Hold on." I cut him off. "You’re Joey’s father?"
"Right," he said, almost sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Should’ve led with that, huh? Name’s John Taylor. Most folks call me Jack. Denny said you wanted to talk to me about Joey, so...here I am." He shrugged like that explained everything.
"I gave Denny my number. You could’ve just called."
"Yeah, well, I must’ve jotted it down wrong or something," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Tried calling — wrong number. Figured it’d be easier to just track you down. Denny mentioned your last name, so I drove by, and, sure enough, Keegan on the mailbox. Knocked, had a nice chat with your mom."
He said it like he deserved a medal for the effort.
Then it hit me where I recognized him from. "You were at the funeral," I said. "Standing off to the side."
He blinked, startled. "Yeah. I didn’t want Monica to see me. Joey didn’t want her knowing we’d been in touch."
"Why all the secrecy? Joey was eighteen. He could make his own choices."
Jack grimaced. "Monica never forgave me. I was a lousy husband. Not much better as a dad, I guess. I had a problem — still do, depending on who you ask. Alcohol. But I’ve been clean for a few years now. Doesn’t erase the past, but hey, I’m doing my best. When Joey reached out...it felt like a second chance, you know?"
I noticed how easily the conversation kept circling back to him.
"I was working the docks down in Norfolk when his letter found me. Quit my job the next day, packed up my boat—" he laughed a little, like it was some grand romantic gesture. "I mean, when life hands you a chance, you take it, right?"
"I gave him my number in the letter I wrote, and he did call. That went alright, a little awkward, but you know, what do you expect? We were strangers. We made arrangements for him to come see me when I arrived."
"And did Joey come see you?"
He hesitated, looking away. "Yeah. He did. Didn’t exactly go how I imagined, though. Kid showed up drunk out of his mind. Broke my heart, honestly. I snapped, lost my temper. Yelled at him. Told him he was throwing his life away, just like I did."
I stared at him. "Real welcoming."
He didn’t flinch. "Maybe I wasn’t gentle, but what was I supposed to do? Pretend it was fine? Kid needed a wake-up call."
"You think yelling fixes everything?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Jack’s expression hardened for a second — the same flash of temper I’d seen in Joey. Then he shrugged again, the anger sliding away into practiced indifference.
"Guess he inherited my temper, along with my weakness for the bottle," he said. "Told me I had no right to tell him anything. Maybe he was right. He left. And then a few days later, he was gone."
He referred to Joey's death like it was just bad luck.
"Joey wasn’t himself those last few months," I said tightly. "College...everything... None of us really knew what was going on."
Jack nodded, like that excused him. "Yeah. Pressure does things to people."
He leaned in, his expression pleading. "Tell me about him. Please. Tell me about the son I never got to know."
Part of me wanted to walk out. But I didn’t. Maybe because I saw the regret was real — even if it was all tangled up with Jack’s need to exonerate himself — so I agreed. Nikki gave me the afternoon off with a sympathetic nod, and Jack and I found our way to the same little café where I'd gone with Caitlin, though we were inside this time considering the recent snowfall.
We sat there — me with hot chocolate, him with coffee — while I tried to piece together a picture of Joey. I stuck to the good memories as much as I could, even though I couldn’t help noticing how much easier it was to see Joey’s selfishness in hindsight, how the drinking hadn’t created all the problems — it had just amplified what was already there.
Jack soaked it all up, nodding, laughing too loud at the funny parts, brushing away an occasional tear when it got too much. And for all his selfishness, for all the excuses he made, I believed him when he said he regretted not getting to know his son. I knew in my gut that he hadn't killed Joey, at least not in cold blood. He may have started Joey's slow process of self-destruction, but he hadn’t shoved him in the pool that night. I felt confident that we could cross him off our list of suspects.
When I finished, he looked at me, eyes hollow. "Wish I’d gotten more time with him. Wish I could’ve known the man he was gonna be."
He didn’t apologize. Not really. Didn’t take the blame, either. In his head, he was just the victim of bad timing — another guy who life had kicked around.
I almost told him that Joey had deserved better — from all of us. That if he’d been a better man from the start, maybe Joey would still be here. But what would be the point? He wouldn’t hear it.
Instead, I just made my excuses and said goodbye, then left to make my appointment with Ilana.
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